Save the Last Dance For Me
by friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: In the ballroom of Mercurius Palace, mages celebrate the end of the Dai Matou Enbu, but Laxus is grumpy and taciturn. Problem? Constant mockery makes him too afraid to dance. But he can see Freed dancing, handsome and shameless… And Freed doesn't look the least interested in dancing with Laxus. What's up with that?


**A/N:** You know we were all thinking it during the post-GMG party.

Thanks to MyFictionalFantasy for lots of encouragement and a little Laxus hc to help out with the plot. ^^

* * *

" **Save the Last Dance for Me"**

Arms crossed, Laxus sulked against a pillar.

Glowering across the wide dance hall of Mercurius Palace, his eyes tracked one particular face. Freed, always easily visible in a crowd thanks to his hair, had gotten wrapped up in Bickslow's mischief. Laxus noted him rolling his eyes and writing runes on Bickslow's dolls. This would be good. Freed rarely participated in pranks.

Laxus had kind of avoided Freed this evening. Avoided yet watched. Avidly. Like a hawk. Or like a stag keeping its eyes on a predator: nervous and alert.

The party was stupid; that was part of the issue. _We all beat each other up: yay, celebrate._ And wear fancy nonsense. And twirl in stupid circles. The only thing Laxus enjoyed was the free-flowing booze.

The larger issue was that Freed was attrac—no, that Laxus couldn't dance with Freed. And worse, Freed would ask at some point. Freed _always_ asked (not that they'd had this opportunity more than once before): it was as inevitable as Freed finding excuses to spend time around him. Laxus didn't complain about that. But the dancing…

Yeah, that was a problem.

Laxus growled, venting some of his frustration by flicking static across the hall at Dragneel, who jumped and punched Fullbuster.

Laxus looked away. Fuck them. Like they needed an excuse to touch each other.

Goddammit, everyone was happy but Laxus.

He returned to his moody vigil. Bickslow's dolls were no longer in sight, so he swept the hall—

A Dragon Slayer marched up behind him.

"Oi. I think you shocked me," Natsu said.

"You think? Shouldn't go accusing people unless you know for sure," Laxus said without turning around.

"I don't _think_ —"

"That's an understatement, sunflower," Gray said. Natsu did something which made Gray squeak. Laxus didn't know the ice mage could _make_ that noise.

"—I know," Natsu finished. "You shocked me."

"Then you must get easily surprised."

As Laxus finally faced him, Natsu glared. Swiping out, Natsu caught him off-guard with a burst of flames.

"Shit!" Laxus batted the fire before it could singe his sleeve.

"There. You've been burned," Natsu retorted.

Gray laughed

"Idiots," Laxus said, shaking his head.

"You should be less grumpy," Natsu said. "You're at a party."

"Do mindless jabbering and sore feet make you happy? Oh wait, of course they do. Because you're stupid."

"Playing up your broody image, Dreyar?" Gray chortled.

When Laxus flipped him off, Gray doubled up laughing, raising a hand to return the gesture.

"Whatever. Stew if you want." Natsu rolled his eyes and grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "C'mon, icicle. Got better things to do with you."

Gray made a sound of interest as Natsu dragged him away, and Laxus tried not to think what things he meant.

It was gross. And it made him jealous.

His eyes were drawn inexorably back across the hall, searching for Freed as he threaded listlessly between pillars. He passed Wendy and Chelia giggling—someone apparently served them alcohol. The cuddling Sabertooth dragons he gave a wide berth, as the Sting half of Sting-and-Rogue was intent on making lifelong friends with every Dragon Slayer after what happened. Laxus didn't feel like making small talk with a manic two-headed beast.

Ah, here was Freed.

By the bar, the rune mage chatted with Mira, who was trying to keep her girlfriend from drinking every keg the royal family owned.

Freed looked stunning. For someone who looked so good on the day-to-day, it was unfair how much _more_ attractive Freed could make himself. Taller, crisper, smarter. Had he always worn that confident smirk, or was that new?

As Freed tilted his head back and laughed (Laxus knew the sound by heart), Freed ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back for just a second and exposing a flash of purple. That eye was also part of Freed's beauty: dangerous and dark. Laxus was attracted to power under control, and Freed was the essence of it. If people knew just how much magic pulsed beneath Freed's skin…his very nice brown skin, more of it showing than normal because he'd foresworn the ascot and left his collar open.

Laxus couldn't look away. Couldn't all evening. He'd lost sight of Freed in the crowd a few times; whenever Freed sauntered back into view, Laxus's eyes were glued again.

He didn't think he'd get his brain onto any other subject tonight. Laxus smiled wryly. _Woe is me._

Heading Freed's way, he was too focused to see Goldmine before the Master noticed him. Laxus sidestepped, but the old man grabbed his arm.

"Laxus! C'mere."

A few Masters and old mages stood around watching their younger counterparts. They all smiled at him. Laxus sighed.

"You look more and more like Makarov every year," Goldmine said, to general agreement. "Except taller."

They all laughed.

"So I hear," Laxus grunted, hands clasped behind his back.

"Makarov used to be taller than he is now," a woman said.

Master Bob gasped, scandalized. "Don't mention that."

"Well, it's true. He keeps getting shorter. You're not going to go the same way, are you, Laxus?"

"Dunno."

They all laughed again, because apparently his glower or lack of certain destiny amused them.

"Enough teasing. That was good fighting out there," Goldmine conceded with a smile. "I had to admit I was impressed."

"Indeed," a different woman said.

"Doing my job for my guild."

"You have no idea how close your strength is to rivaling your grandfather's," Bob said. "You're very much like him."

Laxus's fists closed tight, nails biting into the skin. _That_ kind of comment made him angry.

It wasn't that he didn't think he was like his grandfather. But the similarities were private: feelings, perspectives, and past traumas neither of them advertised.

For example, he was finding Makarov's propensity to get emotional about his brats, to cry at their heartache, and to bear their pain inside him…those were also family traits. As Makarov taught him more about the running of the guild and Laxus learned things about guildmembers which weren't common knowledge, his empathy for them increased significantly. He _might_ have cried privately in the office on several occasions.

So yeah, he was like his grandfather. But not in ways people knew. Outwardly, they were opposites. Makarov was earnest, jovial, straight, and an awful flirt, while Laxus was cynical, gay, and _not_ into frivolous chasing. (Plus he was horrible at it.)

When old folks pushed Makarov's image onto him, made sweeping statements without any idea who Laxus was, he felt invisible—invisible despite all his own strengths and accomplishments. As if all he had to his name were Makarov's feats. And they thought they were _complimenting_ him.

"Makarov's been single for decades. Since Mei died," Bob said, growing sad when he said the name. "Laxus, I hear you're still a bachelor—"

"Bob!" Master Ouba chastised as she broke into the circle. "Are you flirting with young ones again?"

"I was just asking if the boy has as much reputation for grabbing ass."

Laxus choked. Gods, the geezers had no censure.

"If Sorcerer's Weekly is to be believed, he refuses to talk about it. And we all know what that means." Goldmine grinned at Laxus and raised his eyebrows.

Laxus barely contained a snarl. His bungled flirting was always a worse failure because people expected him to be suave and experienced.

"He probably still hasn't grabbed as many asses as Makarov—" someone grumbled.

"Leave the boy alone," Ouba snapped. She shoved Laxus's shoulder. "Go. Do young things. You don't belong here."

Laxus evicted himself from the conversation.

He'd lost track of Freed in the mess, skimming the room until he glimpsed unmistakable green hair twisting in the tempo of the music. Eyes bright, Freed looked at ease and happy. He and his partner were good, and using their skills to gracefully goof off.

Laxus recognized the partner as Mira before jealousy or any other traitorous emotion jumped in. Mira and Freed were both gay as fuck: this was a friend thing. Even if Mira's dress had an elegant pattern which rippled and flowed with her movements—didn't matter how beautiful she was, Freed wouldn't be into her. She could dance with him all she liked.

She said something Laxus couldn't hear and Freed laughed broadly.

It was good to see Freed letting loose. Even if Laxus couldn't join.

It made him ache to think about. How he couldn't just _be,_ like Freed. Freed was beautifully confident in himself, didn't internalize shit, and people sensed that about him. Nobody looked askance at him for his amazing footwork, flirting with his teammate, or anything else.

Laxus sighed, watching the pair move. Freed could make anyone he was dancing with look good. Goddess, Laxus respected him.

When the song ended, Freed and Mira left the dance floor and headed…Laxus's direction.

Ah, shit, Laxus was already reddening. True, he'd expected Freed to make his way over. Freed was so often by his side. That constant proximity helped Laxus do things for Freed. Like when he'd suggested to Bicks and Ever that they send Freed to visit his beloved family. Freed returned beaming and relaxed, and Laxus discovered it made him feel…really, really good.

He was so damn beautiful tonight and every night: the way Freed's eyes pinched at the corners when he smiled, fingers running over the lightning bolts in his hair. If Freed asked Laxus to dance right now, he'd be sorely tempted. When a man looked like that—when that man was Freed Justine and the smartest, kindest person Laxus knew…

Freed and Mira kept walking his way, deep in animated discussion. He wanted to join, but gods, he was going to mumble and trip over himself. Mira and anyone else in the vicinity would get amused smiles; worse, the whole guild would get closer to figuring out Laxus had a crush on his teammate, and he'd never, ever hear the end of it.

He hated when everyone witnessed him making a fool of himself. If it was just the two of them, Laxus putting his foot in his mouth didn't matter. Freed was good at easing awkwardness, at laughing without mocking, and—

Others weren't like that. Laxus just had to be born a Dreyar, and everyone liked to tell him what kind of person he was.

Hands in fists, Laxus started toward Freed and ran smack into Cana.

"Watch where you're going," he growled.

"Watch _yourself,_ lightning bolt. Would hate for you to short-circuit," she shot back.

Laxus shoved past her. Trying to keep his eyes on vibrant green hair. Because even if he wasn't going to dance with Freed, and wouldn't be good at conversation, he still wanted to be near. It was better than circling round and round. Missing Freed. Wishing.

Freed and Mira had stopped by a punch bowl and Laxus was halfway there when—

"Not dancing, spark-face?" Redfox chortled behind him, making him jerk. "You probably can't, huh? That's sad."

"I don't know," Scarlet put in. Laxus turned to see their entire team lounging. (And Natsu and Gray making out. Stupid.) "Laxus might be surprisingly good on his feet. But I suppose that would harm his tough image."

Narrowing his eyes, Laxus opened his mouth.

"I bet he only knows how to follow," Gajeel said. "I'd enjoy seeing that: lightning-rod dancing to someone else's whims."

 _There's nothing wrong with following,_ Laxus thought. But he said, "You're too short for me."

"I ain't short!" Gajeel exclaimed.

"There's nothing wrong with following," Natsu and Gray broke in together, rounding on Gajeel.

"Besides," Natsu added, "you let your partner lead at least half the time when you dance."

"Fuck you!" Gajeel shouted.

As Laxus slipped away, a fast, complicated song struck up, and something tugged in his chest.

He needed to get over it and dance with Freed. The man was worth it.

Except…what if Freed refused? The idea made his body flash hot and cold. Stupid: he _knew_ Freed flirted with him. But what if it didn't mean what he thought? What if Freed didn't want…? Laxus swallowed.

Before he could take another step, Freed looked around . Laxus stood straighter and blushed violently. He was a dozen meters away when he heard someone call Freed's name again, and Rufus Lore of Sabertooth sidled into view.

Rufus said something which made Mira laugh, then turned to murmur in Freed's ear. _Far_ too close.

Smiling, Freed held out a hand. When Rufus took his fingers, Freed stepped backward into the swirl of dancing, and just like that, he was moving again. Precise, perfect, relaxed.

Dancing with Lore.

Laxus growled low, ripping the intruder apart with his gaze. Too dapper, like a walking stereotype. His smile a mouthful of too many teeth just waiting for a punch. And his moves were mediocre. _I can dance better than you, fucktart._

Someone tripped into his back. With a grunt, he pulled the woman off him, but instead of leaving, her hand closed around his arm.

"What's wrong, Laxus?"

He blinked down at Evergreen.

"Nothing's wrong," he muttered. "You enjoying yourself?"

"I am. But you, my dear, are lying. What were you looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Don't try that on me," Ever snorted, putting a hand on her hip. She scanned the dance floor beyond him. "It's so fucking packed in here. Oo, look at that: Freed's such a good dancer. I'm glad he's finally having fun."

Laxus grunted. He did not look.

If Freed was happy, awesome, but he didn't want to see Freed happy with another man.

 _Fucking dancing with another man._ If he'd just fucking stopped caring about public humiliation, that could be _him_ out there holding Freed's fingers.

So yeah, fuck that, of course he wasn't going to look. Now Laxus _was_ jealous.

"Were you watching Freed?" Ever asked, quiet and (he thought) a little sad.

Laxus sighed.

"Laxus, if you were going to be upset about it, why didn't you ask him?"

"Because— It's stupid. You wouldn't understand."

Evergreen cuffed the back of his head.

"Oi!" he exclaimed, patting his hair. "Watch it."

"You look fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "Quite put-together, actually. Freed couldn't stop staring when he first saw you."

Laxus's eyebrows jumped skyward. Freed looking at him wasn't rare, but…Freed checking him out?

Maybe? Possibly?

After a stunned second, he settled back into a glower.

"He moved on to someone else," he said, gesturing. "And like you said, he's happy."

"Goddess, Laxus." Evergreen shook her head. "Go cut in."

"Pardon?"

"Baka, get out there and steal Freed."

Laxus looked at her incredulously.

"And leave his partner swinging? I'm not a rude bastard."

"Maybe not anymore," Ever teased, "but I know you have it in you."

Laxus put a hand over his eyes. Ever wasn't quite as book-smart as Freed, but she was craftier. Her surname _literally_ meant trouble.

"Besides, you're not the only one wishing to ignite the dance floor." She squeezed his arm and pointed.

Across the hall, the muscular lightning mage from Sabertooth glared fixedly at Freed, almost hungry. _Orga Nanagear._

Laxus growled.

"Son of a bitch."

"Calm down. He's into the other one. Rufus."

He narrowed his eyes. "I guess that makes more sense."

"So what now?" Evergreen gave him a little push. "Are you going to get out there, or what?"

"I…dunno…"

He waited for the inevitable second shove, harder, tripping him onto the edge of the dancers.

"Go." Ever gave him an exasperated smile. "You're an idiot."

"You're stubborn," Laxus retorted, before turning and walking across the floor.

A few people nearly ran into him, but Laxus didn't move out of their paths, forcing people to dance around him. Green hair flashed, Laxus approaching Freed's back.

When the Dragon Slayer insinuated himself between the pair, Freed stopped moving with a look of dumb surprise.

"May I cut in?" Laxus said, already sliding his fingers between theirs and taking Freed's hand.

Rufus Lore made a pathetic sound of protest. Then there was a rustle and Laxus caught scent of an old opponent.

Orga. Good.

Freed was still frozen, so Laxus began moving. As Freed caught the music again, the rune mage's eyes were wide.

"Laxus. I didn't expect…" He coughed, catching his breath, and broke into a broad grin. "One of the victors. With me. I'm honored."

"Oh, stop," Laxus grunted. "You're plenty deserving."

As soon as the words were out, the Dragon Slayer flushed. Goddess help him.

The color heightened in Freed's brown cheeks.

"Now I'm even more honored," Freed whispered.

Laxus rolled his eyes to cover his embarrassment. "Freed…"

They moved in unison, spinning. Laxus prayed Freed couldn't feel how sweaty his hands were.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Freed asked.

Laxus shrugged. Nervousness buzzed in his ears.

"You?" he asked.

"Very much." Freed smiled. "It's nice meeting people without fists involved. I've already learned about several interesting magics."

"New research projects?" Laxus grinned. "Really, Justine?"

"Am I not allowed intellectual curiosity? Besides, I've had conversations about the history of war games, types of governance, and educational methodology as well."

Laxus couldn't hold down a laugh.

"Only you." He smiled.

Freed ducked his head, embarrassed and pleased.

"So when it comes to Rufus," Laxus said without animosity, "which of you remembers more facts?"

"Ha ha. I'm sure he does."

"I'd bet on you."

A move swung them around, backs to each other, and Laxus inhaled for bravery.

"Next year," he said, "you ought to be on the team for Fairy Tail."

"Me?" Freed stuttered. "I'm nowhere near you and our strongest—"

"You are. Don't get all modest with me: I know you."

Freed gave him a shy smile. It shot straight to Laxus's chest.

"You know, you're not bad at dancing," Freed said after a few moments. "At all."

"I never said I couldn't."

"You let people assume. But you're quite a fun partner."

Laxus gave him a genuine smile. "I'm glad."

The music wound toward its end. He'd hardly had a chance to really dance—those several minutes sped by way too fast.

Still clasping Freed's fingers, he nearly pulled the man into the beat of the next song, but a shout broke his focus.

"Laxus!" Makarov called. "I need you."

Laxus swallowed before looking regretfully back at Freed.

"Well, there's that," Freed sighed, shrugging.

"Freed." Laxus leaned in so he could murmur in Freed's ear. "Save a dance for me."

When he straightened, Freed wore an eager, beautiful smile Laxus had never seen before.

"You better not stand me up, Laxus Dreyar."

Laxus turned fuchsia and left the dance floor feeling giddy.

* * *

Of course Makarov only needed him to show off. More boasting about the Dreyar name had Laxus ready to hit someone.

And then someone tapped Makarov's shoulder to say a guildmember had somehow drunk all the cider, and would he please see to her? Regretfully, Laxus followed; this would become his responsibility soon.

Cana was drunk off her ass. And laughing about it. Makarov snorted. After a lot of circular explanations, the boggled guards finally let them take her back to the party.

"You going to dance again?" Makarov asked after they deposited Cana next to an amused Mirajane.

Laxus raised an eyebrow. "You saw?"

"It was so-so," Makarov said. "You can do better."

"Says you."

"Did you forget I walked you to your lessons most of your growing up? Gods, I'm the one who's supposed to be senile here."

"If you're going senile, you need to finish teaching me the running of the guild."

"Maybe I will. But not tonight, pup. You should go have fun." Makarov gave him a proud, mischievous smile. "Go dance for real."

"I'll do what I want," Laxus retorted.

His grandfather just shook his head, chuckling.

It was getting late; Laxus could tell from the slower music. It wasn't the kind of song he wanted—not interesting enough. Dammit, he refused to miss this opportunity. If he was going to dance…he might as well _dance._

Throwing all shame to the wind, he approached the quartet.

As he was walking toward Freed a minute later, Redfox intercepted him.

"Did I actually see you dancing earlier?"

"Go fuck yourself." Laxus pushed past him. _Just keep watching._

"Unlike you, I have a datefriend to do that," Gajeel called after him.

Laxus just about electrocuted the hall.

It was hard to see through his anger, but his nose could find Freed anywhere. When he reached Freed's side, his fists were shaking.

"Laxus?" Freed asked in concern, abandoning his conversation with Ever (who scooted off with a smile).

"Give me a second." Laxus took several deep breaths.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing to worry about." Grasping for a new topic, he met Freed's eyes and said, "I see you're back to two green instead of green and purple."

Freed touched his right eye.

"Bickslow didn't need my runes anymore."

"What was the prank?"

Freed flushed. "Well…"

Just then, the song trailed off. Laxus held up a finger.

"Sorry to interrupt, but." He extended a hand as a musician tapped a rapid tempo. "Dance with me?"

Beaming, Freed took his hands.

Freed's fingers were warm and solid and fucking delightful.

This song was lively and fast. Much faster than any before, and far more interesting, a liquid music for them to play with. They caught the beat together, and when their steps aligned, Laxus led Freed through a series of twisting moves.

"Whoa," Freed gasped.

They swung around to face each other, and the rune mage's eyes burned with an excitement that made Laxus's stomach knot.

"You really _can_ dance, can't you?" Freed murmured, too low for anyone else. "Alright then…"

A twist, a tug: Laxus followed—he was used to this, finding the steps and swaying through turns. One of the many strange requirements in his childhood was that he take dance lessons. He'd absolutely hated it, until he found he was good at it. Really good.

And Goddess, Freed could keep up with him.

Laxus led, then Freed. Trading off easily. Like Laxus, Freed knew what he was doing and where his body was, and they knew each other too—after fighting together so long, reading each other was effortless.

Laxus didn't think: he let his body move. Dancing always gave him a rush. Moving smoothly and with purpose; feeling every part of himself come alive.

If that weren't enough, dancing with Freed was a drug. He could feel Freed's body against his, hinting, flirting—parting in something splendid and controlled before coming back together. Every nudge translated through their clasped hands. Through the music, Laxus knew Freed intimately.

Though focused on Freed's eyes and the emotions of the melody, Laxus was aware when people started looking.

It was late, so the floor was sparse (and not everyone could keep up with the rhythm), but dancers moved aside to give them room and some stopped altogether. Twisting through a turn, he saw eyes from beyond the floor, people halting conversations to stare…

And he decided to stop caring.

Whatever happened happened. Freed's palm slid over his chest as their feet moved around each other, and Laxus lost himself in the oneness of their movements. Joy filled his chest with every time Freed looked at him.

The affrettando of Freed's heartbeat was its own music. A rhythm he wanted to consume, soak in, and move to forever.

Only twice did they mess up, and both times they recovered with a few creative steps. Laxus didn't take his eyes off Freed for a second. He'd never been so connected with someone before.

The song was the whole world. Then, suddenly, it crescendoed for the last time and they slid into each other's arms to stop, perfectly on time, when the music did.

They were both panting hard. And grinning at each other. Laxus couldn't look away. As soon as he did, the moment would be over: he'd lose this precious connection. He wanted Freed to keep playing on his heart.

"I think we're being watched," Freed murmured as they relaxed, still staring at each other.

"Well, we're fucking amazing," Laxus rumbled, pulse thudding hard.

"We are."

Freed's thumb slid briefly across his cheek.

They jumped when someone announced this would be the last song. The musicians struck a slow, but still joyful, tune.

The anxiety in Laxus's head roared loud. He was afraid to let go of Freed's hands; afraid that _not_ letting go would lead people to see and realize; afraid to face the rest of the world.

"Would you dance this one with me, too?"

"You don't have another partner you want to dance with?" Freed asked. Laxus couldn't tell if he was teasing.

"I saved my last for you," he said. "Technically, I saved all of mine for you. I haven't danced with anyone else."

Ah shit, Laxus thought, shivering. He was really bad at this.

But Freed looked luminous.

"That's too bad. You've deprived me of a good show." He held out a hand. "Come."

Freed dragged him amid other dancers, out of view (as best they could be) of the general crowd. As they continued making their steps interesting and complex, the slower tempo meant they could actually speak while moving.

"How did I deprive you of a good show?" Laxus asked.

"You're amazing, dolt. I'd've enjoyed watching you."

"Who would I dance with?"

The corner of Freed's mouth twitched up.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters." Laxus scowled. "I can't do that with most people."

"Thank you," Freed said, biting his lip.

"You're welcome."

They moved around each other, shoulders rolling off each other until they came back around.

"Laxus," Freed asked, "would you go out with me?"

Laxus missed a step.

"Me? You're asking me?"

With a tense, high-pitched chuckle, Freed nodded.

"Yes?" Laxus said.

Freed blinked. "Is that a question?"

"No." Laxus's cheeks were hot, and he couldn't hold down a grin. "I'd love to."

Freed's eyes sparkled. "Good."

They danced for several moments. Laxus loved dancing with Freed even on slow songs. And his handsome, easy, delighted face had captured ninety-percent of Laxus's brain cells.

"Why were you surprised just now?" Freed stammered.

Laxus winced. "Don't laugh."

"I'll never mock you, Laxus. You know that."

As they spun closer, he whispered in Freed's ear, "I've never dated before."

Freed clapped a hand over his mouth. "I had no idea. I thought you had."

"Everyone thinks that. Goddess knows why."

"Because you're so confident. You know what you're doing when it comes to, well, anything. So people assume you've…you know. Been around."

"'Around'?" Laxus scowled.

"You know what I mean."

"Are you one of those people who's been around?" the Dragon Slayer asked.

Freed crossed under Laxus's arm and pulled Laxus to his chest, his feet married to the rhythm.

"Yes," Freed said. "As you are well-aware, being my housemate."

"It's not a problem," Laxus clarified. "I meant…you're more experienced. Than me. By a lot, it seems. You're not awkward."

After another few seconds, Freed asked, "Are you embarrassed at the idea of going out?"

Laxus's face lit on fire.

"I still want to," he mumbled.

"I won't say anything. Nobody has to know a thing about your dating life."

Laxus uncoiled. "Thank you."

"Of course, Laxus." When Freed smiled at him, it was the most open and vulnerable he'd ever looked. Weight hit Laxus in the chest and shoved the air out of him. Freed really liked being with him. Dancing with him. Really wanted to go out with him.

Freed really wanted him.

The music sang, turning that moment into a small infinity of Freed's smile. Laxus held his gaze, full of wonderful, mysterious things.

"Wow," Freed said, a little breathless. "You're amazing—

"—dancer," Freed coughed. "You're an amazing dancer."

"It helps I have a good partner."

"True," Freed smiled, "but dancing involves two people. Especially when there isn't a specified leader or follower."

"Still: I think you make me look good."

"I like you," Freed stammered suddenly. Freed's hair swung across his face for a moment; when it slid down about his shoulders, his eyes focused on Laxus's breastbone. "A lot. And I have. For a long time. By the way."

All the air went out of the room.

"I know," Laxus said.

Freed tripped, completely off-time for several steps.

"You do?"

"Well, you asked me out," Laxus said. "We spend all our time together. And fucking work and live and do everything else together. And…we stare at each other a lot."

"Then I take it you…um, you…"

Laxus stopped moving. He couldn't do this while dancing. People flowed around them seamlessly, oblivious.

"Yeah," Laxus said. "I like you too."

They stared at each other, Freed's mouth open in surprise.

Then Freed reached up, slid his hand around Laxus's neck, and kissed him.

They were airless. They were connected. The world ceased, and they floated.

Freed's mouth was hot and pliant, his heartbeat a frantic flutter. Laxus caught him by the waist and drew him closer, kissing him hard. The feeling of Freed's body pressed up against his own: Laxus wanted to hold him there forever, keep him against his chest until the end of time.

He couldn't remember how breathing worked. When the demands of lungs grew too strong, they burst apart gasping.

Tucking his hair behind an ear, Freed let out a shaky laugh. Laxus cleared his throat.

Wow. Kissing. It was mind-blowing.

"Care to finish the dance with me?" Freed asked, holding out a hand.

Laxus didn't miss the excited tremors through Freed's body. He took those warm fingers and grinned—wide; anxious; satisfied.

When they finished out the song, Freed ended on a flourish and Laxus's heart sped up at how graceful he looked. How happy—he wanted to dive into Freed's joy and share every moment of it. He wanted to touch the green hair that kept insinuating itself in Freed's face. He wanted to inspect Freed's hands until he memorized every crease.

He still couldn't stop staring.

"Looks like you _did_ short-circuit," Cana said snidely, passing behind him with her girlfriend. "Makes sense. His body's mostly water."

"Buzz off," Laxus growled.

With a bark of laughter, she pulled Mira against her side and sauntered off the dance floor.

They'd barely made it two steps (still holding each other's hand) when Redfox stopped in front of them. Laxus nearly let go, but they were already caught; and honestly, he really liked Freed's fingers surrounding his.

"I take it back about the dancing," Gajeel said with a nod. "That was pretty epic."

And he walked away.

As they edged off the floor, Freed asked, "What—?"

Makarov interrupted with a cough. He looked at Laxus.

"Mind behaving, pup?"

Laxus glared. "Behaving?"

"I already had to apologize for Natsu and Gray," the guildmaster humphed.

"For what?" Freed asked.

"Doing things in one of the toilet stalls."

"I didn't need that in my brain, Jijii," Laxus protested.

"No, I imagine there's plenty in there already," his grandfather snorted. "Just behave."

Laxus blushed again and heard Freed's pulse speed up.

"At least they're not like Sabertooth," Evergreen broke in. "What these two did barely lasted a second."

Laxus felt sure he'd die of embarrassment, but to his secret pleasure, Freed was gripping his hand tighter. Bonuses.

"I mean, look at that."

As Ever pointed, Makarov made a shocked noise. Against a pillar, in full view, two men were making out heavily. The shorter fisted his hands in his partner's shirt, the taller caressing his face. Rufus's red hat hid their lips, but that was all. When Orga pressed in for more and Rufus tilted his head back, the movements were clearly visible. Laxus thought he heard a groan.

"Ever's right," he said. "We could be like them, Jijii. Be grateful."

Makarov cut his eyes at Laxus, then winked at Freed and strode off.

Freed inhaled shakily.

"You okay, Captain?" Ever asked.

Freed shivered. "I don't know what's happening anymore."

"You're happy," she said. "Enjoy it."

Freed snapped straight as if to salute her, and Laxus broke into laughter. Anxiety fluttered out of him, his gut lightweight. Freed raised an eyebrow, but he laughed too.

"Honestly. You two." Ever rolled her eyes. "Laxus, take him out on the veranda; it's romantic and you can talk in peace." She coughed delicately. "And Master can't see you."

"Ever!" Freed exclaimed, but Laxus dragged him toward the door.

"Ignore her," he grumbled. "It'll only get worse if we defend ourselves."

With a sigh, Freed slipped an arm around Laxus's waist.

"She's not wrong," the rune mage put in. "It _is_ romantic out there."

"You checked?"

"Maybe."

"Who with?" Laxus asked, smirking.

"My fantasies. Hurry up so we can change that."

They did plenty of things out on the veranda. Talking, holding each other's hands, staring at the night sky in overwhelmed silence. And it was so beautiful and quiet, and Laxus looked at Freed, and Freed looked up at him, and Laxus shakily bent in and kissed him again.

Freed went loose, cuddling up against his chest and working Laxus over with his tongue. Laxus knew he was the inexperienced one here, but human instincts were talking, and he left Freed's mouth to bite his ear and suck along the tendons in his neck.

"Laxus," Freed panted breathlessly, "you're not lacking skills, no matter what you say."

Laxus grinned into Freed's skin. "You sure? Because we can practice more."

"I think we should definitely do that anyway."

It was like a dance of its own, Laxus thought: this connection of bodies for expressing something inexpressible and lovely. He didn't know all the moves yet, but that was alright, because he was just getting started, and he could already tell this was something he wanted to get good at. After a few minutes of Freed doing insane things in his mouth, he nudged Freed's nose with his own and stared into his eyes.

Freed's gaze was bright, contented, exuberant. He loved it. He wanted to make Freed look like that always.

Freed slipped his fingers between the Dragon Slayer's.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

Freed grinned. "You're a sap. I like this side of you."

"Enough to want more?" Laxus asked cheekily. Making out had surprising effects on his confidence.

Freed nodded eagerly.

"So much more."

* * *

 **A/N:** It is fully possible to queerify partnered dance. And to trade off the lead (as long as you both know how). This is starting to get more recognition in some dance circles, but most folks still don't realize you can be gay af and dance just as gayly.

I am still chugging along on _The Last Place to Find Home: Part 2._ Meanwhile, I thought I'd post some of the oneshots I've had waiting around to get edited. Enjoy. :)


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